Arrival, Bogotá, and an impromptu walking tour of Chapinero.
We landed early after a late start from Medellín, the flight over almost before I had settled into my seat. We flew over mountains and rivers, disappearing into the clouds near Bogotá before we descended out of them. I was surprised at the amount of farmland we flew over on approach, the towers of the city in the distance, the mountains beyond.
Driving out of the airport, I saw a billboard for Tini’s August 25th concert at the Movistar arena. It was the original imeptus for my trip here and I was excited to see her profile raised high above the city.
As we drove towards the apartment, I took in my new surroundings. Passing the Parque de los Novios, kite vendors lined the sidewalk, their wares flapping in the wind. As we drove the city and towards the neighborhood of Chapinero, the city became more bohemian, the cleaner, more manicured streets that had reminded me of Tashkent giving way to a more lived-in feel, as storefronts began to line the streets instead of apartment complexes.
Bogotá reminds me of a cross between Eastern Europe and the Miramar area of Havanna, Cuba. Maybe it’s the cooler temperatures and overcast skies, but it’s also something about how the streets of Chapinero are laid out, the graffiti that adorns the walls, the shapes and ages of the buildings and apartment complexes. Walking north on Carrera 13 towards the nicer parts of Chapinero, I am reminded of downtown Brooklyn back in the day.
The apartment itself sits on the 19th floor of a high rise building on the busy Avenida Caracas. The entire city is laid out before the windows. In the distance, I can see the airport and at night the trail of lights that connect flights arriving on approach.
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I love the first day in a new city: walking the streets; mapping it in my head. I walked north, passing the Parque de Lourdes and the Basílica Menor Nuestra Señora de Lourdes. A wedding had just been performed and the bride and groom and the wedding party stood in front for photos. I watched as they posed for the camera in various configurations.
On the far side of the park a series of booksellers set up tables under tarps. Wires criss-crossed between them, bringing electricity to the exposed bulbs that illuminated their wares.
I continued north, through residential areas dotted with restaurants and cafes and shops. I stumbled upon an small Argentinian cafe and bought an empanada and an alfajores. I marked it in my mind to return to sit for a coffee.
Just past the cafe, an attractive bookstore occupied two floors of a home set behind a brick wall protected by an iron gate. Dogs played on the lawn. As I browsed the shelves, I heard applause from a floor above. A woman emerged from the room, then closed the door; the activity continued.
I kept walking, exploring the neighborhood, discovering new enclaves of restaurants and bars, often set in areas that looked almost indistinguishable from residential quarters. Trees and parks dotted the area.
As night approached, I made my way back to the apartment. I debated whether to have dinner in a restaurant, but I was tired and looked forward to spending a little time settling in. I had booked a trip to the volcano lagoon of Guatavita and the Salt Cathedral and had an early start ahead.
On the way back I took another route, passing by more shops and squares and the Parque de los Hippies. By then the sun and set and the city was starting to grow dark.
My host had told me that there was a food court on the second floor of the building, and I was looking forward to picking up something quick and simple and inexpensive. I ended up eating tacos in the kitchen, while watching the city lights and the arena, lit up for a show. I counted the days until I would be in attendance. 🇨🇴